Posted by: rundadrun | March 8, 2011

Kiss your brother! And other mom-isms that kept me from killing my brothers.

One thing about growing up with 2 brothers, there WILL be fights.  My brothers and I never really came to blows…except for once with my little brother and myself, but we had plenty of arguments.  But I know we were incredibly blessed in that we almost never went to bed angry at one another.  Or should I say that we never fell asleep angry. 

From early on, I remember one of my mothers fixes for big fights was to tell us to “give your brother a hug”.  As we got older, that started to lose its effectiveness.  We got to where we could  hug without much feeling, and go on with being angry.  We thought we were so smart.  We could fake a hug and mom would never figure it out.  I don’t know when it happened, but one day my mom changed it up.  And she did it in a big way.  I don’t remember what the fight was about, but I sure remember the solution my mom came up with.  “Kiss your brother” was the new punishment.  Let me state right here that we were not a “kissy” family.  I mean I kissed my mom, and I would kiss my dad goodnight until I was probably 12 or so, but it wasn’t our normal way of showing our affection for one another.  So, when I heard the words “kiss” and “your brother” come forth from mom’s lips, my world screeched to a halt.  It was like the scene in “A Christmas Story” when the one kid broke protocol and jumped straight to the triple-dog dare.  I was dumbstruck!  There was no way I was kissing either of my brother!  Luckily, we begged and begged, and she settled on us apologizing and hugging.  I remember thinking, “please, just beat me!” 

But it left an impression on me that has been coming back since my little brother died in December.  My mom wanted us to see that you NEED your brothers.  Whatever else happened, we would remain brothers.  I can’t tell you how many nights after having an argument and saying hateful things to my brothers, I would end up lying in bed torn apart, not wanting to go to sleep till one of us swallowed our pride and finally said that we were sorry.  I remember how good it felt to finally say, “Goodnight, I love you”.  It was almost Waltonesque.  IT HAD TO BE SAID.  Now, as I remember our childhood, I don’t remember anything about any of our fights.  But I remember that we ALWAYS made things right.

If I do nothing else right, I pray that my kids have the same type of love.  And I know they do, because I am seeing it already.  I know that their relationship has a great base and they won’t take each other for granted. 

So, thanks mom! Although there is no way I would have ever kissed either of my brothers, you made me appreciate what a blessing I had in having them.

Happy running,

Rundad

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Responses

  1. You are a good son!

    • Oh that it were true. 🙂 Thanks Jen!


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